


Thrill of the Chase

by DarthSuki



Category: RWBY
Genre: Chases, DFAB reader, Dirty Talk, F/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Predator/Prey, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:31:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: Tyrian has quite the fondness for chasing down what he wants. In this case of course, the thing he wants most isyou.





	Thrill of the Chase

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a request on my RWBY writing blog. If you would like to submit a request or check out my other related work, [go check it out here!](https://rwbywritings.tumblr.com/)

Spontaneity was about the only thing you had in your favor. Dashing through the forest, any direction of escape open to you if you had the dexterity and speed to take it. Though your heart was hammering and your lungs burning, you relegated yourself to traveling on-foot across the floor of the forest. It would have been even harder to try and move through the thick treetops.

And even then, that was his territory. You’d seen the man’s physical prowess well enough to know he was more than capable of catching you if the chase went through the trees; at least on the ground you had a greater freedom of movement, and there were plenty of downed trees and other obstacles to duck under.

As if the environment was responsible to your thoughts, you came upon a huge tree, one that must have been felled many moons ago from a storm. It leaned perfectly against it’s brethren, creating a little alcove that you could just barely squeeze through and hide if you were careful enough. It looked like it would scratch up your arms and legs, but at least you had the sense to wear enough to save your skin from most of it.

Most.

It still hurt to climb inside the little space and your speed of movement certainly didn’t help keep bark and twigs from digging into you. As soon as you were settled and out of view, you pressed your back as hard as you could away from the entrance. Shadows covered over most of the small, tree-made cave, and you hoped that it combined with your silence would be enough.

It was hard to even out your breathing, to still your body from pressing against the crackling leaves beneath you, but you did your best to stifle every noise.

A second passes. Then another. A third, and suddenly you realize how much you need to breathe. Your chest is almost on fire--how long had you been sprinting? The entire forest all seemed to look the same, so it was hard to tell which direction that camp lay. You had lost sight of the man over ten minutes ago and that frightened you nearly as much as it made you confident in your ability to evade him.

Just. Breathe. Slowly. Good.

You prayed that he wouldn’t hear the hard thumping of your heart or the gentle shakes of your body, worn out from so much activity all at once.

And suddenly, in all the span of a hurried breath, the forest was deathly silent.

Not a sound seemed to echo from the air. No animal nor fall breeze, not even the slightest shift of the trees. There was nothing. You almost had the urge to crawl forward, if only to look out from your hiding spot--

But that urge was quickly abandoned when a sound of weight falling to the forest floor sounded. There was no crackle to signify a falling branch, and the noise was simply too controlled to be anything other than the inevitable. 

Your hands flew over your mouth to cover up the rushing breaths from your lips. Terror mixed with excitement as careful footsteps prowled closer to your hiding spot. You were absolutely sure that, at any moment, your partners face would appear at the opening of your hiding hole.

Everything was burning, everything was tense.

You couldn’t see very much from the opening of the little alcove--just a sliver of the forest clearing from about the knees-up. Footsteps continued to draw closer until, finally--

He stepped in front of the alcove. You could see his feet stepping across the ground, turning about as he must have looked across the open space for any signs of you. You could hear him let out a little huff of annoyance, tail lightly sweeping behind him as he turned about once more (your breath held, your heart almost frozen) and even so much as stepped up in front of the alcove. 

With how he paused, it almost seemed as if he was leaning against the fallen tree--little did he know how close he was to capturing his prey, so close that he could practically reach out and grab you...

And with all the sudden ferocity in which he appeared, Tyrian left your view. When you didn’t see or hear him again, you began to assume that he had left the area, climbed back up and into the treetops in search for where you must have gone.

You let a minute pass, still no Tyrian. Two minutes go by, you still don’t hear anything. You wait for what feels like an eternity, always alert to any noise, any hint that he was lingering about.

Slowly, so slowly, you started to crawl your way out of the little hiding space. You did your best not to make any unnecessary noises that could tempt fate enough to lead your partner back in your direction.

All you had to do was get back to camp. That was the agreement: get back to camp without being captured. Though it was all but a game, there were tremors moving through your limbs, a distinct feeling of fear that clenched tight around your thoughts. It truly felt like some sort of life or death scenario, and that only seemed to excite you all the more.

You emerged from your hidden spot with all the care and caution of a frightened rabbit. Every step made you pause, every crack of a twig beneath your feet made you jump--it was horrible, though you eventually made it to the center of the clearing without issue.

Everything seemed peaceful. 

With one challenge out of the way, the next one seemed even worse: finding your way back to camp. In the chaos of the initial and subsequent chase, you had lost most of your sense of direction. The forest was foreign to you. After a moment you glanced upwards, hoping to get sight of the sun so you could begin to work out a general sense of cardinal directions against where you had started.

You barely managed to take a step before you felt the pressure of another body against your back. You knew who it was the moment you felt his hands on your body, but the fear laced through you regardless.

The two of you fell to the forest floor, only mildly cushioned by the fact that he rolled both of your bodies with the impact. The two of your sprawled over the leaf-laden ground until ultimately you lay beneath him, his body a firm and warm presence over you that shattered any hope of winning.

Your eyes finally focused up to the man atop of you. His grin was fantastically wide and excitement danced through his eyes as they laid upon yours.

“Caught you,” Tyrian said, voice lyrical as he leaned down enough that his hair was almost tickling your face. “I think that means I win."

He had quite the hold on you with his hips straddled over your own, his hands pressing against your wrists out beside your head. You wondered if the man could even feel your heartbeat or the heaving of your chest as the adrenaline finally started to wear off.

There wasn’t much of a point to struggle, not when Tyrian had such a hold on you and he seemed more than apt to take advantage of it. Instead of a fight, you pull your lips into a soft, almost teasing smile, lifting your head up just enough to close the little distance between your face and his and brush your mouths together.

“Guess that means you get to have your prize.”

It was a mystery as to what was more appealing to you: the flush that came over the man’s pale cheeks, or the pressure that pressed against your lower stomach. Regardless, the reaction spurred on a new wave of excitement in you, one similar but wholly different from what you had been feeling up until then. 

The urge to tease bubbled up and over your thoughts, and soon you couldn’t help but gently lift and grind your hips against Tyrian’s own. That seemed to work enough at getting his attention; the man let out a soft noise as he leaned back, all the while staring down at you with that  _ look _ in his eyes. It was look you only noticed when he was  _ wanting _ for something.

It wasn’t that much of a question to figure out who was at the other end of his thoughts.

“I didn’t think my prey would be so willing to be devoured,” The man said, smile back on his face.

You couldn’t help but feel heat on your cheeks at the tone of his words, placed ever so perfectly that the meaning was clear. It was as subtle as it was obvious, a perfect pun on the game the two of you were playing.

Still, Tyrian didn’t give you many moments to consider his words before he started to speak again, head tilting lightly to the side to further show his curiosity.

“The real question is if I should take you back to camp or not.” One of his hands moved from your wrist, obviously confident in the fact that you weren’t going to try and use it to get away (which you weren’t--the fire in your stomach outweighed your desire to win). “To have you here or not….what an interesting question. Does my prey have any words on it?”

You didn’t answer. At least, you didn’t answer in the way he must have been expecting. Your free hand reaches up and gently grabs the back of his neck, then pulls him down into a hurried, messy kiss.

“Tyrian I swear to the gods,” You say the moment the kiss breaks, letting him hover with his forehead pressing against your own. “If you don’t take me soon I will kick your ass.”

The man pauses for a moment, then practically giggles against your mouth.

“You say that as if it’s a threat.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to figure things out. Considering how cold the forest floor was in the waning fall days, being upright was a much better option. 

Tyrian held onto you as the two of you got to your feet, his face pressed against your throat. You could feel his lips and teeth as he lavished you with warm, needing kisses. A moan escaped your lips as he backed you up, one step at a time, until you felt the press of a tree halting the motion.

His hands are everywhere. They move over your body with all the enthusiasm of a virgin touch, but all the knowledge of a long-time lover. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his fingers around the waist of your pants and start tugging them insistently--asking for permission.

The most you can offer him for that permission is a soft moan of his name as your hips gently press against his touch.

He starts to undress you, but stops before your pants fall below the curve of your hips. His stilled motion pulls your attention away from his fervent kisses.

“What’s wrong?”

When you notice the soft, almost subtle movement of Tyrian’s tongue across his lips, you should have known he was plotting something absolutely mischievous.

“Turn around,” Is all the warning he gave you, hands moving about so he could gently grab your hips and begin turning you around to face the tree.

It wasn’t until you felt one of his hands press against the small of your back, encouraging you to bend forward, that you realized what he was planning. Despite this you didn’t offer much rejection, oh no, the heat only grew as you came to realize how the situation was coming together. Getting fucked in the middle of a forest was hot on it’s own, but mounted and fucked against a tree? It was a new level of arousal you never considered.

There wasn’t much clothing to remove, especially since it seemed that Tyrian was not in a mood to be patient. The only issue you had with the position was how your hands pressed into the rough texture of the tree bark in front of you (a roughness that would not bode well for what was to happen)

“Tyrian, I need something for my hands,” Is all you have the sense to say as he’s tugging your pants down your legs. “I don’t want to cut them up to ribbons.”

Worry starts to take over as you feel a lack of pressure and warmth against your body. But before you can turn your head around and open your mouth again, a piece of clothing is tossed on your head. After a confused moment, you realize it’s Tyrian’s shirt. It doesn’t take much for you to realize what it’s for, so you’re quick to adjust yourself and press the cloth between your open palms and the surface of the tree your leaning against.

You’re barely positioned comfortably again as you feel the cold air against your bare skin. Your pants and undergarments are pooled around your ankles--but it’s your position, bend forward, that makes you feel exposed.

The heat has been building up between your legs since the moment that Tyrian first fell upon you. It has worked up into an aggravating heat that yearns for relief, the kind you simply can’t get by rubbing your thighs together.

Tyrian finally slots himself up against your ass, his hands pushing your shirt up and letting his fingertips skim over your skin. He doesn’t even try to hide how aroused he is, cock hard between your thighs and snug against your wet cunt.

All you can do is whine and press back against him.

“Does my little rabbit want sooomething?” Tyrian sing-songs, lingering on a syllable to he can drink up the way you almost quiver against his touch. He then chuckles, leaning forward so that his breath tickles the back of your neck. “I want to hear you say it. Want to hear my prey beg for me.”

For as aggravating as it is, there’s something about the tone of voice or playfulness that riles you up like nothing else. 

“Tyrian,” you choke out after a moment. “ _ Please _ . You won the game, just  _ take _ me already.” Your legs spread apart as much as your clothes will allow, still hanging around your ankles.

“Eager,” is all the man hisses in delight. His hips shift, ever so slightly, and it drags his cock against your core. “I’d almost think that you wanted to get caught.” He moves again, just as agonizingly slow. 

Taunting you.

It works, and he plays you like a fiddle, making you let out a soft sob of need when the heat comes to an almost unbearable level between your legs. Hot and wet and needy--and his cock is  _ right there _ , so close and yet he’s moving so infuriatingly slow. There’s still nothing you can do but whimper and press back against him, hoping  it may be enough to convince the man to stop teasing you and take what he rightfully won.

But he doesn’t. It was one of things you both loved and hated most about the man’s lovemaking--he loved to tease and torture. His hands, beneath your shirt, played up against your skin. Fingertips eventually pushed your bra up, revealing your breasts to his needy touch.

“So willing to be mounted,” The man purred. “You smelled of need the entire time I followed you--you were eager for this the moment we started our little game.”

He starts to move in some motion akin to thrusting, but it’s too slow, too shallow and by god he’s not  _ inside _ of you where you want him most. It’s not clear if he’s getting more pleasure from watching you shiver and shake or from the motion itself, but you finally let out a soft growl and squeeze your thighs together and push your ass back against his hips.

Tyrian almost  _ mewls _ in delight.

“Such feisty prey,” he says, almost breathless and filled with excitement. “Then I suppose your wish is my command, little rabbit.”

He pulls his hips away, just enough to make you feel the loss of his cock against your heat. It’s almost enough to make you whimper, but Tyrian replaces it with something sweeter in less than a breath. 

You nearly let out a cry of pleasure as his cock presses inside you. You’re so wet and aroused that it slides deep into you, opening you up in a way that leaves you scrabbling against the tree for purchase.

“Fuck!” You swear, “Yes, yes yes yes Tyrian yes-” 

You’re dripping with arousal when the man sets a sudden and startling pace. Sometimes it feels like his hands are the only thing keeping you upright as your knees start to wobble, body filled to the brim with the hot, throbbing pleasure you’d been looking forward to since the break of dawn that morning.

Tyrian certainly isn’t any better at holding in his pleasure as he gropes and plays with your breasts with one hand and keeps a solid hold of your hip with the other. His motions are rough, barely keeping the pace he had set moments before--yearning for the moment as much as you had that it’s hard to keep it together.

He growls and groans with every press inside you, babbling under his breath all the while of sweet nothings, soft words of love or simply how hot and good you feel around him. Vulnerable and open, all he can do is whimper against the nape of your neck as his body presses over your own--the only shame is that you can’t see his face, the flush over his cheeks or the knitting of his brows as he gets close to climax.

The next several minutes are a blur of pleasure and heat, your bodies coming together over and over again in carnal need as Tyrian’s voice whispers filthy little compliments and sweet nothings into your ear.

“I want to fuck you like this every day,” He confesses in his lust-struck haze. “Mount you and fuck you after chasing you down. The look in your eyes was beautiful, so beautiful. I could feel your racing heart when I caught you, I could  _ smell _ how much you wanted me.”

Another sob falls from your lips, finally mixed with a comprehensible word of warning that you hope Tyrian understands.

“ _ Close _ .”

Like a vice, Tyrian bites the nape of your neck; it hurts, but it’s not nearly hard enough to break the skin. It almost feels a little carnal in the moment, especially as one of his hands move down between your legs and start rubbing little circles over the throbbing shape of your clit.

It takes only a few moments, but the added sensation practically shoots you over the edge. Climax overcomes you with a wave of heat, overtaking everything for several seconds. It’s a white-hot blur, but you can feel Tyrian shake and thrust rapidly against you as he finds his end. It’s hot and wet and a million other things, but pleasure is the most important, the most lovely, the strongest feeling that fills you up--alongside the feeling of Tyrian’s arms wrapping around your body and holding you close through all of the falling waves of euphoria. 

You can hear him moaning your name, feel him holding you tight. Even as the last echoes of climax falls away, you’re caught up in such a wonderful afterglow that almost nothing can tear the delicate moment away from you, even as you stand in an uncomfortable decision with thick evidence of his climax dripping down your inner thighs.

But it’s perfect.

Tyrian purrs as he nuzzles against the back of your neck, kissing in apology over what must be a solid mark from his biting. It will probably hurt later (a lot of you will probably hurt later), but at least you can enjoy the few subtle moments where reality doesn’t quite exist.

“Love you,” you hear your partner murmur, the words still soft and weak as he tests them on his tongue.

It doesn’t take you more than a breath to find the available coherency to reply, humming warmly as the two of your bodies linger in delicious warmth.

“Love you too, Ty.”


End file.
